


Did Too

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-12-02
Updated: 2000-12-02
Packaged: 2018-11-11 04:04:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11140692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: An argument leads Ray K. to find an entirely new Fraser.





	Did Too

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).
    
    
    Did Too
    a due South F/K PWP by LynnZo
    Written: November 24, 2000. Word count: 4,686
    Disclaimer: These characters belong to Alliance, not me.  No copyright
    infringement intended.
    Author's Notes:  This story is Jane Austen's fault.  Really.  Anne and
    I were discussing "Mansfield Park" yesterday, and I pointed out that
    Ms. Austen tends to wimp out at what Anne calls the "payoff moment."
    It never fails to irritate me that, after 47 chapters of UST, all we
    get for dnouement between the two primary lovers in the book is "Edmund
    did cease to care about Miss Crawford and became as anxious to marry
    Fanny, as Fanny herself could desire."  I can't help but wish, in passing,
    that she'd have had an editor to importune her, on the readers' behalf,
    to spend more than one chapter unraveling all the wonderful plot twists
    she'd introduced in the first 47 chapters.  I'm not asking for a sex
    scene, but couldn't we have been given a *little* more than this? 
    
    So, learned literary criticism of my betters aside, when I sat down to
    write this, thinking that with a four-day weekend I should be able to
    turn out a story, I felt obliged not to "fade to black."  The result
    was rather more sex and less dialog than my usual, so: you've been warned.
    
    Thanks to Anne for a somewhat reluctant beta during X-Files marathon
    weekend. 
    
    ********
    
    "Did too."
    
    "Did not."
    
    "Did too."
    
    "Did not."
    
    Ray unlocked the door to his apartment with more force than was actually
    required, and stumbled in, still arguing.
    
    "You did, Fraser; you licked it.  I saw it.  You picked up a rock.  From
    the mud.  In an old house that's been abandoned to god-knows-what for
    god-knows-how- many years and you.  Licked.  It."
    
    Fraser followed him into the tiny hallway, had to turn sideways to close
    the door behind them, since Ray had stopped dead still in the hallway
    for this last salvo in an argument which had, so far, lasted forty minutes.
    About standard.  He sighed.
    
    "Ray, I merely smelled the rock.  I did not lick it.  And it's a fortunate
    circumstance that I did smell it, because...."
    
    Ray stopped him by sticking a hand in the middle of his chest and pushing.
    Hard.  Pushed Fraser right up against the wall and held him there, glaring.
    "Forget the case, Frase.  Admit that you licked it."
    
    "Or what, Ray?"
    
    "What, what?"
    
    "Or what, Ray.  That sounded like a threat.  What are you going to do
    if I don't admit it?"
    
    Ray just looked at him.  Fraser continued, "Are you going to, what was
    it, 'pop me one,' Ray?"  
    
    And then a moment later he was sorry he'd said it, because Ray looked
    ashamed, and the only rule in this argument game of theirs was that you
    weren't allowed to actually hurt someone. 
    
    Ray dropped the hand from Fraser's chest.  "No, Fraser, I'm not going
    to hit you.  Not again."  And he started to turn away.
    
    The mood in the hallway soured instantly, and Fraser, desperate, moved
    quickly, catching at Ray's arm before he could step away.  "Then what,
    Ray?" 
    
    Ray looked back at him, remembered shame turning to suspicion.  "Why're
    you pushing this, Fraser?"  He peered myopically at Fraser's face in
    the dimness of the hallway.
    
    "Did not, Ray."  And now Fraser was grinning at him. 
    
    Fraser smiled, politely, a lot.  But he never grinned.  Not like this,
    not playful, not teasing.  Not with anybody but Ray.  It made him very
    nearly irresistible, and Ray suspected Fraser knew it, because he gave
    Ray a sideways glance under his lashes, and Ray just *had* to step back,
    hand going back to the middle of Fraser's chest to hold him in place,
    even though Fraser hadn't moved. 
    
    Then immediately battle was rejoined.  "Did too."
    
    "Did not."
    
    Ray was grinning back, helplessly, but warned, "This could go on forever,
    Fraser, I could do this all night.  Did too."
    
    "Did not."
    
    "Admit it."
    
    "Or what?"
    
    But Ray was on his guard against this question now, and he took a beat
    to pretend to consider it, fingers flexing idly against the warmth of
    Fraser's shirt front.
    
    Fraser waited, a little dizzy, and his feet felt far away, all his attention
    focused on the hand holding him in place and the solid wall at his back.
    He could feel each of Ray's fingers as they curled and stretched, caressed
    almost idly, and under Ray's intense scrutiny he knew Ray felt it when
    his heart skipped a bit, tripped and started to beat heavily.  Fraser
    breathed deeply, as deeply as he could, pinned there, and flinched when
    Ray took a half step back, braced his feet, and put more weight on the
    arm linking him and Fraser.  The air was still around them, waiting.
    
    Suddenly this didn't feel so much like a game.
    
    "Last chance, Fraser.  Admit you licked the rock."  Ray's voice had gone
    quiet, serious, but for all that, not really threatening.  There was
    still an echo of a smile in his eyes, but Fraser knew he meant what he
    said.  Ray was giving him a way out, all he had to do was nod and he
    could back down from this, from...whatever had been building between
    them since their "one more case" had turned into a real partnership,
    gone to Canada on a case, then an extended vacation, and come home again.
    Partners.
    
    But Fraser was beyond that.  Beyond words, and he shook his head, slowly,
    side to side, without breaking eye contact.  No.  No turning back.  "Did
    not." 
    
    And then the hand holding him was gone and before he could even miss
    the weight of it, it was replaced by the solid force of Ray's chest,
    hitting his and sticking tight, and the hand had moved up into his hair
    and was curving against the back of his neck, pulling his head forward,
    and he opened his mouth to breathe, and Ray kissed him.
    
    Oh, dear.
    
    * * * *
    
    Ray felt Fraser pull back a bit, startled, when their lips met and he
    hung on, knowing that if he didn't go through with this now, he might
    never have the nerve again.  He knew Fraser wouldn't want it rough, though,
    so he kissed him with all the sweetness and gentleness he could manage,
    given that they were both gasping for breath already, and he could feel
    the force of Fraser's heavy heartbeats echoing through his own body,
    making them both shake.
    
    He knew Fraser would stop him, would pull away, and so it wasn't hard
    for Ray to just keep kissing, let himself get lost in it, his hand still
    in Fraser's hair, but stroking now, loving the feel of it in his hand,
    letting Fraser's body support both of them.  And at some point, it couldn't
    have been more than a few seconds, Fraser did move, reached up with both
    hands to hold Ray's head, and Ray pushed a little harder, knowing it
    was ending, it was over, not ready yet to let go, and he heard himself
    make a desperate whimper and didn't care.  Too soon, too soon.
    
    But Fraser didn't pull away.  His hands reached into Ray's hair and flexed
    tight, held tight, and then Fraser was tilting his head, and Ray went
    with it, it was that or lose some hair, and Fraser was breathing hard
    though his mouth and when Ray's head was tilted at just the angle he
    wanted, Fraser simply pushed on Ray's jaw with his thumbs to open his
    mouth and dived in, with tongue and teeth, and just took over.
    
    It was wet and rough and it might have even hurt a little bit, but Ray
    didn't know, didn't care, he was too busy freaking out.  This was Fraser,
    Fraser who he'd thought about, wondered, finally decided - gentle, careful.
    Only it was here, now, at last, and it wasn't gentle or careful at all,
    it was hard and sloppy and anything but careful.  And it was unbelievably
    hot.  He was already ready for anything, was humping Fraser's leg with
    it, not knowing or caring, and when Fraser pulled his hands out of Ray's
    hair he actually thought he might fall, and then everything tilted and
    the wall was at his back, warm, solid, and Fraser's hand was pulling
    his zipper down, reaching in, and Ray groaned in relief when Fraser took
    him in hand and just *pulled*.
    
    "Fraser..." he gasped, but it wasn't conversation, it was 'yes, please
    more' and Fraser knew, because he gave Ray another one of those rough,
    wet, not-careful kisses and pulled again, stripping Ray's cock with his
    big, hot, rough hand and when he added a little twist at the end, Ray
    thought he might have screamed a little into Fraser's mouth because he
    could feel Fraser grinning at him again, and Ray braced both hands on
    Fraser's shoulders, arched his back, and just came.  All over Fraser,
    and himself, letting everything wash away on the pleasure, squeezing
    his eyes so tight he saw stars.
    
    And if he thought it might have been over, if he'd been able to think,
    that is, he would have been surprised when Fraser just let him fall,
    guided him to the ground, laying flat out on the floor, and started pulling
    his clothes off him.  Ray lay still, breathing, trying to recover, to
    get his head around this new Fraser, this different Fraser, who apparently
    didn't need it gentle, or careful, but who was stripping Ray and himself
    with Mountie efficiency, and Ray's eyes fastened on Fraser's groin when
    he pulled off his pants, and Fraser was still hard, so ready he was leaking,
    and Ray felt a sudden dryness in his throat, wanting to taste.  And then
    he had a moment of panic, of shock at himself, wanting that, wanting
    to taste that.  He'd thought, sure, wondered, fantasized maybe, but had
    never expected to feel so *hungry,* and he glanced up at Fraser's determined
    face, wanting to tell, to explain.
    
    New Fraser didn't seem to care what Ray wanted, didn't ask anyway, he
    was rolling up Ray's discarded shirt and tucking it considerately under
    his head to cushion it a bit from the hard wooden floor, and then he
    just dived in again, kissing and kissing, and then his whole body came
    down on Ray's and Ray jumped at the shock, he'd forgotten how that felt,
    how long had it been since he'd had a nude body against his own?  He
    didn't remember, didn't care, but this, this was new and utterly overwhelming.
    Fraser.  It was Fraser whose cock was digging a hole in his hip, whose
    lips were chewing on his neck, whose breath was scalding him, and Ray
    couldn't help it, he could feel himself already starting to get hard
    again, and he struggled with the languor, pulled his heavy arms up from
    the floor to wrap them around Fraser, to hold tight.
    
    Fraser was moving against him, hips pumping in a rhythm that Ray caught
    immediately.  This was okay, this was *fine* and he'd forgotten how *good*
    friction was between two bodies, and he stroked down Fraser's back, wet
    now with sweat and exertion, and when Fraser groaned into his neck, Ray
    got a little braver and moved his hands lower to cup Fraser's ass, to
    hold him there.  This was his fantasy, only harder, and hotter, and he
    pulled Fraser *hard* to try and control this, to make his thrusts harder,
    deeper, slower, just the way Ray liked them, and Fraser shuddered and
    cried out a little and came against his hip, shaking with it.
    
    Now it had to be over, Ray thought, and he waited a bit while Fraser
    breathed, giving him a minute to recover, rubbing his back a little,
    soothing.  But he'd forgotten for a minute, this wasn't Old Fraser, polite
    Fraser, who was likely to apologize for coming on him, this was New Fraser,
    and he was nothing like the old one.  Fraser was still breathing heavy,
    but he pushed himself up on his hands and kissed Ray quickly, hard, on
    the lips, and then he was kissing all over Ray's face; quick kisses,
    hard kisses, and Ray just lay there and breathed, getting used to this
    New Fraser all over again.  Especially when New Fraser pushed himself
    down Ray's body, fastened both his hands on Ray's nipples, and sucked
    his half-hard cock in his mouth in one smooth motion.
    
    Ray couldn't help it, he screamed, and his throat felt a little sore
    and he wondered briefly if he'd been screaming before, but that all went
    away when Fraser started sucking, and twisting his nipples, and generally
    pushing Ray beyond where Old Fraser would have ever gone, until Ray was
    groaning with every breath and even maybe shouting a bit when Fraser
    pulled his mouth off Ray's cock, replacing it with the same warm, rough
    hand that had known so well what to do before.  But he wasn't stopping,
    even if Ray had had the breath to ask, he was just shouldering his way
    between Ray's outstretched legs to nuzzle his balls and his hand knew
    the right rhythm, the same rhythm as before, and Ray was floating on
    it, riding it, and when Fraser just reached under him and stroked one
    finger right into his ass, Ray shot all over him, just like before only
    different, because it was alright now, he knew Fraser had it covered.
    
    When he had breathed enough to raise his head this time, Ray looked down
    to find Fraser still intent, hand rubbing him softly, gentling him, even
    though his own breathing was still ragged, and Ray looked down further
    and saw that Fraser was hard again, as hard as he'd been the first time,
    and before he knew it he was reaching down to pull Fraser up, to kiss
    him again, and maybe to taste, like he'd wanted before.  
    
    Fraser came eagerly, willingly, but he left his right hand where it was
    and it took the sudden clenching of not-quite-pain to let Ray know Fraser's
    finger was still inside him, still buried in his ass.  And while Ray
    was still dealing with this, with the feeling of someone's finger actually
    *inside* him, New Fraser had taken him over again, was reaching under
    his head to cradle his skull, and was kissing him and pulling him up
    against his chest, so that Ray was half-leaning on Fraser's warm chest
    and half-sitting on Fraser's...on Fraser's *hand,* somehow, and Fraser's
    finger was *moving* inside him, and then he hit a spot that sent sensation
    rocketing through Ray and convulsed his body.  Ray wasn't small, he and
    Fraser were about the same height, but he was slimmer, leaner, and when
    Fraser held him easily, supporting him with just his left arm and shoulder
    while his right hand sent Ray reeling, Ray had a moment to be grateful
    for Mountie conditioning, for Fraser's solidity, for his steadiness.
    
    After an undetermined time when Ray's world had narrowed to just the
    space where Fraser's finger...ooh, fingers were inside him, stroking
    him, pushing him 'way beyond anything he had even fantasized about, he
    felt Fraser pulling him up and went greedily, expecting another one of
    those wet kisses, but Fraser slowed his fingers inside Ray and then stopped
    moving altogether, and Ray pulled himself together enough to focus.
    
    "Wha...?  Frase?"  His voice was desperate, ragged, thin, and Ray breathed
    hard a second, resting his head on Fraser's, reaching for control.
    
    "Ray."  Oooh, Fraser's voice wasn't much better.  He sounded just as
    desperate.  "May I..?"
    
    Ray couldn't help it, he was lying on the floor, covered in sweat and
    come and Fraser and *now* the guy was asking permission?  Now?  After
    all this?  And he had to laugh a little, even though it wasn't much,
    and he nodded his head up against the side of Fraser's and said, "Yeah.
    Yes.  Anything.  Anything you want."  And in a minute he'd get up enough
    breath to ask Fraser what he was asking, what he wanted, but in the meantime
    Fraser's fingers twitched a little inside him, just once, and Fraser
    rubbed his erection hard against Ray's hip, and Ray, caught off-guard,
    gasped and clutched even harder at Fraser, arousal flaring again -- still
    -- always, it felt like forever they'd been laying there, always, always
    on the edge of orgasm, and Fraser twisted his fingers again and laid
    Ray back down on the floor, and they were off and running.  Again. 
    
    Only this time it was different, because Fraser had pulled his fingers
    out now, and Ray felt abandoned for a second, his ass loose and wet and
    strange, but Fraser's hands were on him, shoulder and hip, and he was
    turning Ray over and pulling at the same time, and Ray ended up face-down,
    and Fraser was moving behind him and still pulling, and by the time Ray
    realized where Fraser was and what he was doing, Fraser's cock had already
    landed, hard and hot and wet, up against the crack of his ass, and that
    was so shocking that Ray just reached out with both hands and grabbed
    some of their discarded clothing and held on. 
    
    This?  This was what he'd been asking?  What Ray'd said yes to?  "Fraser!"
    he gasped out, and this time it meant, not so fast, slow down, let me
    think, but it was too late, he'd already said yes, and New Fraser wasn't
    the type to slow down, Ray had learned that well.  And New Fraser had
    positioned himself and he was pushing, pushing, not rough but relentless,
    and Ray shocked himself again by loving it, needing it instantly even
    though he'd never dreamed of this part, of wanting it even though it
    hurt some, and the clothes were slippery on the wooden floor and he kept
    losing his balance.  But Fraser had him, his arms strong around Ray's
    waist, and he kept pushing until he was all the way inside, and Ray could
    feel his body close against his own, joined as closely as they could
    be.  And now, at last, Fraser stopped a minute, and just held him there,
    breathing hard.  Ray felt Fraser's lungs working hard to pull in air,
    tucked tight up against his back, and he wondered, briefly, what this
    must feel like to Fraser.  To be buried so deep inside.  Inside, he felt
    his body clutch, and flex, and Fraser gasped helplessly above him.  Grinning
    a little, Ray flexed again, and he loved it when Fraser shuddered.
    
    "Ray!  Ray, easy.  Easy," Fraser gasped out, and then he started moving.
    Slowly, deeply, and when he went out and came in again he hit that same
    spot inside that had sent Ray away before, and Ray felt it coming and
    he just rode it again, the pleasure cresting and falling as Fraser moved
    in him.  The hard floor was forgotten, the fact that he'd come already
    -- what, twice? -- was forgotten, there was nothing but the heat, and
    the pressure, and the pleasure of Fraser moving inside him, until it
    got to be too much for both of them and they exploded, Fraser first and
    then Ray, when Fraser pulled him up to sit almost upright astride him,
    Fraser's softening cock almost a tickle inside him, and brought one hand
    around to strip Ray's cock once, twice, three times, and then whispering,
    "Come on Ray, come for me," in his ear as Ray came again on that same
    rough, capable hand that had been on and inside his body forever, forever.
    
    ***
    
    Ray opened his eyes and peered at the ceiling.  Bed ceiling.  Bedroom.
    Oh yeah, Fraser'd dragged him up, finally, from the hallway floor and
    they'd stumbled together into the bedroom and collapsed.  He reached
    out, but the bed was empty.  Time?  He rolled over, moaning, and peered
    at the bedside clock.  12:07.  Midnight?  Noises in the other room dragged
    him out of bed, cursing a little as he sat up, and he stumbled out to
    find....Fraser.  Old Fraser.  Definitely Old Fraser, who had already
    cleaned up the hallway, because there were his clothes, neatly folded
    on the chair, and who had already taken a shower, because his head was
    wet and he was wearing Ray's bathrobe.  And who was cooking, stirring
    something industriously in a pan on the stove.
    
    Cooking? At midnight?  Ray felt a little hung-over, his elbows were sore
    for some reason he didn't even want to think about, and he was definitely
    disoriented.  What had happened to the other Fraser?  
    
    "You're cooking?"  He knew his voice sounded lost, shaky, but felt instantly
    more grounded when Fraser turned and smiled.  Smiled, somehow, with his
    whole face.  
    
    "Ray!  You're up!"  And he turned immediately away from the stove and
    came over to Ray, who took sudden half-step backwards, irrationally afraid
    that the New Fraser would jump him again, and not feeling up to it right
    now.  But Fraser just reached out and rubbed his upper arms firmly, friendly,
    and steered him towards the bathroom.  "Have a shower, Ray.  Supper will
    be ready when you're finished."
    
    And Ray dumbly went, not needing to take off his clothes because he wasn't
    wearing any, and stood under the shower, hot, until his brain started
    to come awake again.  He soaped himself thoroughly, wondering again about
    his elbows, decided to ask Fraser about it, decided against it while
    he brushed his teeth and combed his hair, and then realized that Fraser
    had taken his robe.  He shrugged, not much need for modesty now, but
    somehow didn't want to wander out naked, and settled for a towel around
    his hips.
    
    When he emerged, Fraser was dishing something that actually smelled kind
    of good up onto two plates, so Ray went into the bedroom for a pair of
    clean jeans and then came back out to claim his plate.   "Spaghetti?
    You made spaghetti?  At midnight?"  But he took a large bite and chewed
    happily.
    
    Fraser took a more judicious bite and he, of course, managed to do so
    without getting one drop of spaghetti sauce on his lips.  Ray watched
    him chew for a minute and had a sudden, irrational desire to stick his
    hand in the plate of spaghetti and rub it all over Fraser's face, really
    mess him up.  And then to lick it all off again.  
    
    "Ahem."  Fraser's sudden noise let him know he was staring, and Ray jerked
    his eyes up guiltily to Fraser's, feeling his face redden.
    
    "'Ahem,' Fraser?  Nobody actually says 'ahem'."
    
    "Well, I just did, Ray, so obviously someone does."
    
    Ray felt that this conversation might quickly become embarrassing, so
    he changed the subject.  "What're we standing around in the kitchen for?
    I got chairs," and he led the way to the couch and flopped down, leaving
    a good third of the couch for Fraser.
    
    At least, that was the plan.  As soon as his backside hit the couch,
    it came back off again, and somehow Fraser's hand was there to take the
    plate of spaghetti as Ray put both hands down and eased himself more
    gingerly down onto the couch cushions.  He glared at Fraser, "If you
    laugh, Frase, I'm going to have to hurt you," and took his plate back.
    
    Fraser wasn't laughing.  "Ray.  Are you...injured?"
    
    In spite of the embarrassment, Ray grinned at him a bit around his next
    bite of  spaghetti.  "Nah.  Just sore.  Sit."
    
    And Fraser sat, primly as always in direct contrast to Ray's sprawl,
    and delicately ate his spaghetti, one neat bite after the other.  Ray
    watched him, contentment winning out over the soreness in his butt. 
    This Fraser he knew, this Fraser could probably win a pie-eating contest
    with his hands tied behind his back and never get a speck on him.  But
    the other Fraser, New Fraser, he was different.  He'd gotten hot, and
    sweaty, and 'way beyond messy, and he'd taken Ray there with him.
    
    Thinking about that other Fraser made his cheeks flush, and of course
    at that moment Fraser put down his perfectly clean plate and looked over
    at him.  
    
    "Ray.  You're looking very...flushed.  You must have taken a very hot
    shower."  And that was so...so *Fraser* not to even know when a guy was
    sitting there thinking really dirty thoughts about him, that Ray just
    had to try and get under his skin about it.
    
    "Yeah.  Well, I was plenty dirty, there, Frase."
    
    And he watched with real, uncomplicated pleasure while the tips of Fraser's
    ears turned red, and he said, "I'm.  Um.  Sorry about that, Ray."
    
    He knew it.  He'd *known* it.  Known that Fraser'd be apologizing sometime.
    But Ray wasn't in the mood to be charitable.  He didn't let up, not a
    bit.  "You *jumped* me, Fraser.  What was up with that?"
    
    And he finished his spaghetti and put the slimy, messy, sauce-smeared
    plate defiantly right on top of Fraser's clean one.  Together, just like
    him and Fraser in the hallway.  He hoped Fraser got that.
    
    Fraser looked even more uncomfortable when Ray relaxed back against the
    arm of the couch and looked at him expectantly.  "Spill it, Fraser. 
    You had it covered.  I wanna know why."
    
    "Well, Ray, I.  Ah.  It was just that I didn't think.  Ever. And then
    when you...."
    
    Fraser was so embarrassed his whole *face* had turned red, now, all the
    way down into the vee of Ray's bathrobe.  Ray couldn't help but take
    pity on the poor guy.  "You mean, you didn't think we'd ever just *do*
    it.  And when I kissed you, you got kinda greedy."  Ray knew that feeling,
    knew it well.  There at the end, when he and Stella'd, well, when she'd
    let him, he'd felt the same.  Greedy, like it might be all he ever got.
    
    Fraser looked really relieved.  "Yes, Ray.  I wanted, had wanted."  He
    stopped to swallow heavily.  "And when you didn't want to stop, I lost
    control."  He looked over at Ray, and reached out one tentative hand
    to touch.  Ray stuck a leg out and let Fraser rub it.  It felt good.
    
    "I know I pushed you.  I should never have..."  Another heavy swallow.
    "I should have stopped."
    
    Ray let his head fall back on the arm of the couch and couldn't help
    smiling.  As much as he'd liked the New Fraser, he liked this one more,
    if only for the anticipation of pushing him past this politeness again
    sometime really soon so he and New Fraser could go at it all over again.
    Maybe with a new twist, next time.
    
    "Did I say stop?  I don't remember saying stop," he said mildly, watching
    Fraser's hand rub up and down his calf.  "You'd done that before, though,
    hadn't you."
    
    It wasn't really a question, or maybe it was, but Fraser reddened again
    anyway.  "Not for.  A long time."
    
    "Years?"  Maybe he was thinking about Vecchio.  Ray thought maybe he
    was, but he wanted to know so he asked it anyway.
    
    And Fraser understood, because he looked at him and shook his head, once.
    "Years.  Before my father."  He swallowed.  "Before I came to Chicago."
    
    "That thing with your father.  That really messed you up, didn't it?"
    
    "Yes, Ray.  It did."
    
    "But it's over now."
    
    Fraser nodded, and looked sad.
    
    Ray thought a minute.  "So, that wasn't really New Fraser at all, was
    it?  More like, Old Fraser, come back again."
    
    Surprise.  Fraser'd been more focused on the feel of Ray's leg under
    his hand than the conversation, but this confused him.  "New Fraser?"
    
    But Ray was shaking his head, shaking it off.  "Never mind.  The thing
    is, Frase.  I, uh.  I wouldn't mind if he came out again.  You know,
    sometime." 
    
    "You wouldn't?"  Fraser felt a little light-headed.
    
    Ray was smiling, still.  "Yeah."  He came up off the couch with one graceful
    move and snagged the plates, carrying them into the kitchen and yawning
    hugely.  "I need sleep, Frase."  He wandered towards the bedroom, then
    stopped, one eyebrow raised, obviously waiting for Fraser to follow.
    
    Fraser did, a little off-balance, watched Ray pull off his jeans and
    climb nude into the bed, move over and make room for him.  He shrugged
    out of Ray's robe, folded it tidily on the chair, and turned back to
    find Ray laughing at him.  "Ray?"
    
    But Ray shook his head and reached out to snap off the bedside lamp.
    He looked so comfortable, obviously used to going to bed with a lover.
    Fraser lowered himself into the bed gingerly, feeling all knees and elbows,
    and was rewarded when Ray snuggled easily up against him.  He reached
    out a tentative arm and gathered Ray to him, not relaxed yet, but not
    as embarrassed as he'd expected.  Ray made it easy.  Ray had made it
    all easy, and Fraser felt a wave of gratitude for all he'd been given.
    For the pleasure, and the trust, and the friendship and the partnership.
    He jerked a crick out of his neck decisively, enough of that.  He *must*
    be tired; he was getting maudlin.  "Ray."  He said suddenly. 
    
    Ray snuffled and snorted, obviously getting comfortable and not too interested
    in conversation.  "Hmmm?"
    
    "You were right.  Before.  I did lick the rock."
    
    He could feel Ray's grin against his own skin.  "Told you."
    
    "Yes, Ray.  Yes, you did."
    
    "Next time, admit it.  Or I may have to get rough with you again." 
    
    Fraser smiled, and relaxed.  Sleep sounded like a very good idea.  And
    then... 
    
    "Yes, Ray."
    
    They slept.
    
    ***the end***
    
    Ending notes:
    1. Yes, I know there should be condoms.  And more lube than I've implied.
    This is fiction, remember?
    2. Thanks to Laura for pointing out that Fraser would say "May I" rather
    than "Can I".  She was right, so I took the opportunity to make this
    change when I uploaded the story to the archive.  I also cleaned up another
    couple of typos that had snuck in.
    


End file.
